


And thus I take my leave of the world

by Linger1536



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linger1536/pseuds/Linger1536
Summary: She is almost at the gate when she hears it."Mama!"It is an instinct buried deep within her that has her turning around to look for the child but she regrets it in an instant. She stands separated from the rest, a shadow of a child from long ago. Her slight body created by the white mist and it swirls around her as she stares at the woman with hollowed eyes."Leave!"Reincarnation story





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally began writing this back in 2012 on ffnet and it was bad... like horrendous and so teenage me, it makes me cringe. I then decided to begin to rewrite it two years ago but I never got that far so this is my third attempt.  
> I would not advise you to read the story on ffnet since this will differ from it.

A heavy cloud lays over London that night. The air is thick with the promise of rain and a fog is making its way through London, casting a ghostly sheen in its path. A young woman makes a hurried dash from a Premier Inn, the fog licks at her feet as she scurries across the street before crossing into a quieter side street, pulling the hood of her coat up as she does, covering her chestnut hair with it.

The laughter from a group of rowdy teenage boys can be heard from somewhere within the fog and the woman switches sides, trying not to make much noise. Beer bottles clink and then cursing fills the air but she pays it no mind. She is just about to cross the street for a last time when the fog closes in around her, thickening. Soft laughter echoes within it as human shapes begins to manifest, but these are not some intoxicated teenage boys, they are something far more sinister.

A chill creeps up the woman's spine and she feels a cold breath ghost against her ear. _“Concubine!”_

Fear flickers in her brown eyes before the lids rapidly closes. Her chest heaves and her lungs fills with the humid night air but also with the fumes of the city and they anchor her to this reality. She steps forward, trying to ignore their unwelcome presence as they swarm around her.

“ _Putain!”_

Her footsteps echoes loudly against the wet pavement as she quickens her step.

“ _Witch!”_

Her breath leaves her lips in a cloud of smoke.

“ _She-devil!”_

Her long fingers twitch.

“ _Google eyed whore!”_

Somewhere in the far distance a consistent noise can be heard. Her nails cut into her palms, drawing blood as she concentrates on the wailing sound of a... _siren!_ Her eyes flash open and the figures withdraw as her surroundings return to their current state. She scowls with new found determination and heads towards the building that houses her flat. She is almost at the gate when she hears it.

“ _Mama!”_

It is an instinct buried deep within her that has her turning around to look for the child but she regrets it in an instant. _She_ stands separated from the rest, a shadow of a child from long ago. Her slight body created by the white mist and it swirls around her as she stares at the woman with hollowed eyes.

“Leave!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

_**London, the 19th of May, 2000** _

A chestnut haired girl laughs in delight as her parents take hold of her small hands and swing her in the air between them, the silver bows on her pink shoes glimmer in the sunlight. Passerbys smile fondly at the sight but had their eyes lingered on if for a moment longer they would have seen the transition from a happy child to a deeply disturbed girl...

It only takes one turn around the corner of the street for the family's life to be turned upside down. The girl who has passed by the historical sight several times during her four years of life freezes mid-laugh and her expressions changes to one of terror as she stares up at the Tower of London with horrified eyes.

The parents continue to chatter happily to each other, unbeknownst to the change in their daughter, as they approach the Tower for the child's first visit. The little girls stays unusually quiet quiet as her parents pulls her along. Images which she does not understand flash before her eyes while the mum pays for the tickets and just as they turn, about to join the queue to enter the Tower, the little girl opens her mouth and lets out the most heart wrenching scream causing people to spin around to stare at her in horror.

The child's head is down, her hair obscures her face from the onlookers but her shoulders shake with sobs and tears drip onto the pavement.

_Silver flashes at the corner of her eye, something cool touches her neck and then she is flying._

She drops onto the ground in what seems to be a fit, screaming bloody murder while her trembling hands clutch at her neck. Her parents grab at her hands, trying to pull them away, urging her to let them see, asking what is wrong while she flays her arms about, repeating the same sentence over and over again:

“I don't want to! I don't want to! PLEASE!”

Her parents at a loss of what to do scoop the girl up in their arms, besides themselves with worry as they hurry home with her. It isn't until they are out of view of the Tower that the child finally calms down enough to stop screaming, instead she sits quietly on her father's lap as they take the tube home, staring down at her hands with a wisdom in her dark eyes that one of such a tender age ought not to have.

It isn't until later that night when the girl's mother has wrapped her up in her blanket and tucked her stuffed animals in next to her and put her to bed that the other thoughts begin to enter the child's bind and she lies there in the soft glow of her night light, nibbling on her lower lip thoughtfully before getting out of bed. She finds her dad splayed out on the couch in front of the television and she leans forward on her bare feet, tip toeing up to him.

He smiles at her but it doesn't quiet reach his eyes. “Can't sleep?” he asks before reaching for her and settling her down next to him, pulling the purple blanket that lays discarded on his right over the both of them.

He flips on a child friendly film and she curls into his side, eyebrows coming together above her eyes as she watches the screen with deep concentration. The film is nearing its end when she finally speaks, startling her father who had assumed she had fallen asleep because of how quiet she had been.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She turns to look at him with those deep dark brown eyes of hers. “What about Elizabeth?”

You could say the girl becomes a troubled child after that day. She is no longer a happy little girl and no matter how much her parents search for the answer as to why they always come back empty handed. The night terrors begin that very day and they are to stay with her until adulthood. Her parents take her to her psychologists who are just as bemused by the child's peculiar behaviour and by the time she reaches her teenage years the girl herself has grown tired of the tedious questions and will often amuse herself by trying to turn the situation around. At a loss for what to do the parents decide to relocate to France when the mother is offered a new job, in hopes of a fresh start but it only gives them more misery, their daughter does not dislike France but she yearns to go back to England and as soon as she turns eighteen she relocates back to her home country.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did it catch your interest? Let me know what you thought of it, and if you want me to continue it.  
> Thank you so much for reading! :)


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